


I Write the Time That Passes

by trashonapaper



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, M/M, also an awkward buildup, this is going to be pure fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 02:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21046880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashonapaper/pseuds/trashonapaper
Summary: “I’m not sure what you’re doing with so many books, but from the subjects, I doubt they’re anything good.” George has never been the best at socializing; sure, he can analyze the dialogue of characters with proficiency, but when it comes to speaking, his skills are limited.That’s when he heard it: the man’s loud yet gentle laugh, with a certain cadence that brought joy to whoever was fortunate enough to listen. It seemed so unfitting for a prospective murderer, such a tender soul about to bring unspoken atrocities upon the world.





	I Write the Time That Passes

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking this out! It's my first multi-chapter work, so let's see how well I keep up with it. I'll be updating somewhat sporadically since I'm awfully busy. Let me know what you think 💕

George has always considered himself a simple man for not delving into the trivial parties of his classmates. He never had much of an interest, preferring to stay home and work at the local library. He'd rather procure some amount of funds instead of throw them away on an ephemeral feeling. So there he was, behind the desk at the library, with his vintage headphones resting on the crown of his head and faint piano dancing at the edge of his mind. He was in a world of his own as he perused the pages of _The Importance of Being Earnest_ when he noticed movement above the faded pages.

Looking up curiously, George is met with the excited face of someone no older than he and a book being slid towards him. The Brit puts on a friendly smile and allows his headphones to fall to his shoulders as he looks at the book. _The Devil in the White City_, the story of H. H. Holms, the murderous pharmacist responsible for the deaths of at least nine people in the late 1800’s… an unexpected choice for someone so eager. It puts George off a little; nevertheless, he sets aside his own reading to check out this new customer. He doesn’t ask any questions. Frankly, he doesn’t quite want to know why this man is checking out such a gruesome book, so he processes his request as soon as he could with a forced smile. And thus, George assumed that was the last he would see of his suspected murderous friend.

He would have to admonish himself for making assumptions too quickly, as no more than a week later, the man was back with another book: _Killers of the Flower Moon_ about the mercenary killings of the Kile family by William Hale and his nephews. Another book of a grotesque murder? Was this man planning something? George gave him a wary glance as he checked out the novel, hesitantly handing it to the man before the customer quickly darted out of the library. What a bizarre individual…

When another book in the same genre as the previous two, _While the City Slept_, a poignant commentary about mental health in America through the story of murderer Isaiah Kalebu, was pushed across the desk by long, spindly fingers in even less time than the last, George knew exactly who this would be. His assumptions, this time, were proved correct as he looked up to see the same uncanny smile, given the situation. The librarian was starting to get somewhat worried this man would commit a heinous crime based on those from his predecessors, so he decided to finally intervene.

“I’m not sure what you’re doing with so many books, but from the subjects, I doubt they’re anything good.” George has never been the best at socializing; sure, he can analyze the dialogue of characters with proficiency, but when it comes to speaking, his skills are limited.

That’s when he heard it: the man’s loud yet gentle laugh, with a certain cadence that brought joy to whoever was fortunate enough to listen. It seemed so unfitting for a prospective murderer, such a tender soul about to bring unspoken atrocities upon the world.

“Oh, it’s nothing like that! This is just extra work for my CSI class at Uni!” the man replied once he recovered from his amusement. So it was just for a class… What a relief. No one was going to die by the hands of this curious mind anytime soon; if anything, the plans of killers would be foiled by his hands.

George must have obviously shown great relief at the other’s confession, as he heard, “Sorry if I made you worry so much! If it’s not too much of a bother, do you have any other books I could read? I’m trying to understand the mindset of these killers so I can stop them before they get the chance to kill.”

There was a sort of charming naivety and unrealistic optimism to this man - who could have easily been in his late teenage years, George reminds himself. With a sigh and an amused smile, the Brit heaved himself out of his chair, laying his headphones and book to the side, and meandered over to the nonfiction section with his companion trailing close behind. Regrettably, George had been interested in the true crime community in high school when he was still interested in psychology, so he had a few recommendations. He pointed out a few new books for the other to read, and had a thoroughly interesting conversation about murderers, their interests, and, later, each other.

It turned out this <strike>man</strike> <strike>boy</strike> person’s name is Alex, and they attended the same university. It wasn’t too much of a surprise that George had never seen him before: their campus was quite large with many residents. The other was 20 (confirming George’s original assumption of Alex’s manhood), causing George to realize his close age to him. They learned of other interests they had: George was quite fond of not only reading but writing, and was aiming to become a published author someday. Alex, on the other hand, was quite math- and science-oriented and often had trouble forming coherent written essays with concise word choice. However, he could figure out most things that would perplex George’s language-focused mind.

“Hey, I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around sometime, yeah?” Alex asked as the conversation started to slow between the two men. He actually wanted to keep in touch after this point? This wasn’t just a fleeting moment to soon pass, almost a one-night stand conversation? George must have had the most amusing look of bewilderment on his face, because his ears were graced once more with Alex’s pleasantly paradoxical laughter. “Don’t look so surprised! You’re a nice guy. Oh, do you have a piece of paper?”

George let himself relax a bit as he heard Alex continue, starting to walk back to his desk to scan the young man’s books. “Yeah, it’s right back here. Why?” he asked as he reached into his desk to pull out a notepad and pen for the other. He continued to check Alex out as the other hastily scribbled something on the front page. When Alex pushed the notepad back towards him, George could finally see what it was: a phone number, most likely Alex’s (whose would it be if not his?).

“Call me whenever, okay? But definitely when school starts, I’ll probably need some help with my papers. A-and I can help you with your math in exchange!” Alex managed to say past his wide grin as he gathered his new book collection for a few weeks. “I’ll see you around!”

George was left to watch the other almost sprint out of the library in his excitement. He allowed himself to lean back in his desk chair and stare at the ceiling for a moment. So, his first new friend of the school year, and someone around his age as well. This was certainly going to be an interesting year.


End file.
